The Inner Prison
A little something - it's the other side of The last night, but you don't have to read it beforehand.
Many believed I survived the confinement by dissociating myself from it through work, but the truth wasn't quite what people thought.
It was assumed that I was in pain and suffering, because my imprisonment was humiliating - being handcuffed for every minute of the day isn't the most pleasant lifestyle. So theoretically I should have tried to cut myslef off from it in some way, either work or imagination.
But I haven't, not even for a second.
It is hard to live in constant hiding, wearing a mask for everyone to see, adjusting it to the situation every now and then - the perfect son, the conscientious student, the helpful brother. Hiding can be tiring, but in the long run it's more than profitable and it makes things easier, at least some of them. Hovewer, concealing your true self may lead to a peculiar loneliness, when the countless circle of firends is just a play and no one knows what it really happening in your head.
Before we met, I knew sanity. The plan I made was more than perfect or at least I thought so, giving up my memories and becoming that another Light Yagami, someone who didn't have the right to exist anymore.
I thought I knew myself, but I was mistaken more than ever.
The day he put handcuffs on me, I was terrified. My father threatened to kill me mere hours before and I was still confused and weary after the imprisonment. And this man was determined to prove my crime by all his means, even though I was sure I didn't comit any. As it was expected, as time went on I was getting more into the case, unconsciously following the plan.
How could I know there were things I was unable to predict? Every move he could make, I was sure I thought it through beforehand. But the only person I didn't take into account was myself. The only one whom I trusted betrayed me and there was no going back.
It happened the night after we fought. Maybe he didn't realize, but I felt more hurt looking at his miserable state than being hit myself. The one thing I admired about him, his brilliant mind, was led astray. It was equally painful to know that the reason behind his distress was my innocence - the one who called me his first and only friend was disconsolate, because I wasn't a mass murderer.
Therefore it was more for mine than his sake when I emraced him that night. I had to feel I was real, a person capable of making decisions and not a puppet controled by an unknown force.
And as he didn't protest, it stayed this way for a while. But a crack in the plan was made and it was like stepping on ice thiner and thiner each day - when the wheel starts turning, it's nearly impossible to stop it.
I liked - loved - the way he accepted me. Alarmed every minute we were together, yet more familiar as hours passed, a detective on guard and a lost boy - he was both and so was I. Consequently, there was only one way things could develop.
I had to kiss him. I've seen in his eyes that he was amused, but I didn't care that much. It felt like a dream anyway, the confinement and our life together, and all of a sudden for the first time in my life I felt reckless. I wanted it to happen more than anything else I've ever thought about. For whatever reason he felt like a prey, someone valuable and hard to find.
The days that followed were the best we could have asked for - working on the Yotsuba case and getting closer to answers we both wanted, meanwhile teasing one another when everyone was there, unable to see the obvious. The hiding made it all more exciting, making us feel as kids for once. For a brief moment I was sure it'll stay this way - maybe not forever, I wasn't so sure about our feelings - but at least for some time.
It ended as it started: unexpectedly. The day I've regained my memories it was clear there was not much time left for us, whatever we were.
I was still kissing him, but the doubt in his eyes grew deeper.
He knew he should have let me go the moment he felt alarmed again; yet he didn't, freeing my hands, but not my soul.
Still around him, counting each passing hour with victory and a hint of regret, I was testing my feelings. There was no way out of this now, so I was still lying in his bed, pretending to be asleep. The unnatural light was illuminating the room with an artificial glow, in contrast with the sound of rain outside.
"Light," he said suddenly, crawling nearer. I was trying to breath evenly, but my racing heart gave me away.
"What is it?", I asked, still turning my back on him.
"Whatever happens from now on," he began hesistantly, making the words sound foreign, "I want you to know I'll cherish the memory of our time together."
I couldn't stop the chuckle that escaped my mouth. Did he really think there was a happy ending for him?
"Why would you say something like this?", I asked, leaving the thought to myself and finally looking at him.
Our eyes met for a brief moment - full of regret, already knowing what was to come next.
"I think I might have accidently fallen for you."
"You know you shouldn't have done it," I smiled gently in reply, reaching for his hand. "In the game we play there is no place for such things."
"The demons," he started, looking at me inscrutably, "they need love too."